CHAPTER 81 – WALL
In a matter of moments everything turned into a nightmarish hellscape. Day turned to night. Dragons and other cruel beasts flooded the skies, careening towards the city. This would be the end for them. The troops started to march as the skybeasts finished their collision course, all the while the catapults ravaged the walls of Zepathorum. Then the pitter patter of rain trickled in. Axion lifted his hand out from underneath the cover. He inspected the raindrops smashing into his palm. It was black rain.
He turned to face everyone and come up with some sort of plan. He had no idea what to do against such odds beyond compare. As he turned to face them Commander Cel’a walked out into the rain. Axion looked twice at her.
Cel’a said as she passed, “I thought I would have more time.”
Axion had a million questions, but he merely just let her go. Whatever was about to happen would be a measure of desperation, and one they sorely needed at that.
Cel’a smiled looking back one last time fondly, before setting her sights forward, gripping her spear firmly. And then it was as though she talked to the enemy as one.
“I will protect this city with every beat of my heart, with every fiber of my being, and every breath of my spirit, even if it takes my last!”
Cel’a twirled her royal golden spear around in the rain. The tip sliced through the black rain drops cleanly. Axion could swear he saw the spear starting to blur as it moved. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed, immediately confirming his suspicions after seeing the look on Jericho and Mortikahn’s faces.
At this point the spear was visibly shifting through the air with supernatural speed. Then Commander Cel’a slammed it down with all her might, stabbing the spearhead into the ground, creating a schism in the atmosphere. The spear charged with the energy she collected. It pulsed in a cerulean blue, akin to the cor. The pulse radiated from the spearhead and started to move, up the shaft and over to Cel’a, gradually accumulating and covering her body like armor.
Axion froze in awe as he watched his guardian exhibit the same mastery of Ignaleos Cor power Mercinestor displayed behind enemy lines, back in Port Caliber. Cel’a had found a way to turn her superspeed spear handling into a static shield, and then that into an offensive strike. In one stroke she swung the spear over her head. The cosmic armor lifted away like a cobweb in the wind as the commander painted the sky.
It was beautiful, truly a sight to behold, as color was brought back into the muted landscape. The span of blue covered a staggering vertical limit, from up beyond the clouds, down to the Gatehouse, unnaturally extending the city walls, all in one stroke. As a result, the dragons flew through the field and like a cosmic filter they obliterated into sheer nothingness. It looked like the dragons’ entirety was eviscerated, save their shadows. The static sky wall cleansed the city of the brood in one fell swoop.
“Bring me that lioness’ head.” The Emissary hissed at his acolytes, as they set out to scale the city walls.
The soldiers in the city cheered at the light show. Commander Cel Adora was the heroine of the kingdom in that moment, saving them all from certain death. Unfortunately, it took everything she had to grapple such a force. Axion escorted Commander Cel’a back under cover and handed her off to the royal guard, one of which was her own son Fiscerone Adora.
“Get her to the Citadel safely, Fis.” A name only the Prince called him. “We need the commander back on her feet as soon as possible.”
Fisceron’a bowed to Prince Axion and carried the commander away.
Axion took this moment to clear his mind and find his center. He found ways to formulate a plan. He thought about what happened at Port Caliber, how he entered the scene and knew what to do instinctually. This was almost the same, but this time they had an advantage…This time they knew the enemy was coming. This fight would be on Axion’s terms, and in that he held the leverage necessary to beat the odds.
“Everyone listen up. We just caught a huge break thanks to the Commander’s sacrifice. Even though her presence on the battlefield will be sorely missed-”
The remaining royal guard cheered at that.
“By now, the city is clear of civilians. Any who have not retreated to the Citadel will be bunkered down on their own. Paxikahn and Jericho stay here with the archers and hold the Gatehouse. Anilithyìstad set up our command center in the Citadel courtyard. The cavalry from Metuchen has been distributed throughout the city under the leadership of the royal guard and Mortikahn. When the defenses at the walls start to break we retreat conservatively until we’re at the courtyard. After that we hold out for as long as we can until help arrives. May the gods have mercy on us all, and the Lorde Magnanimous shine his divine providence down upon us.”
Everyone left the tent except for Anilithyìstad.
“Good plan,” he said.
“You will have to stay in the courtyard at all costs, uncle.”
“Whatever you need.”
“I will ride across the fronts and help them maintain the perimeter.”
“We will hold this city. The Casterosi will come.”
Anilithyistad finished reassuring Axion and peered over his shoulder to find Mortikahn assembling his team. The young shorelander prince took the time now to get to know his men so when it was time to move out there would be little hesitation.
It was dark. Everyone was scared. The ranks of horrid scaly soldiers marched towards the walls. The sky cracked and a bolt of lightning opened the clouds. The rain came down harder and harder, until it came with the first round of arrows. Axion quickly signaled a counterstrike. After that, he gave the order to fire at will, and encouraged his troops to empty their ammunition, hold nothing back.
“I think it’s time we show these intruders what this city is capable of…” Axion nodded to his men.
“Artillery!” screamed one of the Royal Guard lieutenants posted at the Gatehouse, as he lifted his sword into the air.
With the signal from his sword the artillery along the city joined the arrows in sailing through the storm torn air. This was no mere travel-size catapult ammunition. The trebuchet stations throughout the Gatehouse and the towers along the city walls were permanent installations. This meant their ability to harness the strength of the city, and through gears, weights, and pulleys hurl massive slabs of boulderock through the air. Pieces so big sometimes they wouldn’t even roll but hit the ground flat and smush anything caught unlucky enough to get caught in between. It was such a barrage that the initial charge of foot soldiers almost came to a halt. The rain continued to paint the floor wet.
The initial shock and horror hit like an explosion. The chaos was perpetually growing now, like trying to keep a cracked dam from breaking. Jericho led the archers. Standing almost directly in the center of the northern wall, he would cock back an arrow, and so would the rest of the wall in unison. Jericho fired his arrow along with all the archers. He was the conductor of the defense, pinpointing danger spots along the forces against the wall and wiping them out.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
A loud crack annihilated a tower nearest to the Gatehouse. It was destroyed by a behemoth swinging a club. Jericho’s men targeted the giant beast before it could do any more serious damage and collectively, in a massive effort took it down. There was only one problem. That behemoth was not alone. Jericho looked back. Luckily for him, Axion had not departed the Gatehouse yet and read his cousin’s face loud and clear. The prince ordered his soldiers to target the approaching wave of assault behemoths with the trebuchets.
The archers’ arrows distracted the dumb giants, as the stones and boulders launched from the trebuchets stomped them out. Paxikahn watched his nephew Jericho lead the archers in tandem with the city artillery as it laid waste to the enemy legions. He was impressed to say the least. If they kept this up they could wear down the enemy force and be victorious.
Not a moment after Paxikahn thought this did giant craven birds with long beaks, reptile necks, scaly black feathers, and gangrenous claws holding round rocks come diving out of the darkened skies. They released the rocks just above the trebuchets crushing them to bits. This was not random, it was an airstrike. On closer look, there was a rider on one of those cravens! Paxikahn got to the roof of the battlements and loaded his bow. He pulled the arrow back and fired it into the air towards a craven.
The bird swooped down at him, noticed the incoming arrow, and dodged out of the way. Paxikahn slid off the roof and down a stone gutter, leading right back to his horse. The monstrous bird now flew low in between the buildings, heading right for Paxikahn retreating on horseback. He loaded his bow again, but this time kicked his horse with both his heels while he pulled the arrow back into the bow as far and as tight as he could. Paxikahn’s horse galloped wildly as it looked back and forth between the city blocks.
When both horse and master caught the path of the flying beast, Paxikahn gave it everything he had, pulling the arrow even farther back and releasing in one fluent motion. The arrow sailed through the air and dug into the craven right between the eyes. It died before it crashed into the street. But that was only one of the frivolously devastating birds storming down upon the city. Paxikahn pulled a long feather from the carcass and rode back to the north wall. The last of the trebuchets got few shots off before they too were destroyed by the cravens.
Axion could no longer sit and wait. Apparently, the forces on the battlements were holding. Axion just watched and listened for the initial charge upon the city. Little did he know that soon he would be forever regretting his feelings right now. Not only regretting the words, but wishing he was back in that calm break before the storm. Mortikahn walked past his cousin, the prince and general of the Lion Kingdom, and saw the awkward look on his face, the one of fighting against instinct. Mortikahn caught Axion’s attention and lifted his eyebrows, almost giving a shocked expression except for his smirk, this combination sort of woke the lion prince up, who then summoned both Mortikahn and Anilithyìstad.
“Mortikahn, I see your ranks are ready. Deploy them post haste. Let’s get ahead of it. I feel something horrible in the air. Better we act now, get a jump on things to come.”
“Aye, Axion,” saluted Mortikahn as he adjusted his armor and left for assembly.
Anilithyìstad at first felt uneasy. His youngest, leading a battalion on his own, was Mortikahn ready? But in these grave times, the judgment of all men would come swiftly with heavy consequences. Everyone must endure, including his youngest son. So, he let Axion send Mortikahn off and did nothing about it. After all, the lad showed his true colors during the evacuation of Port Caliber. He was almost solely responsible for saving the civilians of the beach district.
Somehow this was different though. Anilithyìstad did not want to admit it to himself, but there was a cold dark feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the feeling of certain death. Even if the banners of the Pride arrived in time, this could still be the end. Anilithyìstad needed to think of a back-up plan to get his son out before it was too late. He could not think like that right now. His entire family and his men were counting on him. This was no time to prioritize lives. Anilithyìstad shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“Relax.” Axion put his arm on Anilithyìstad’s shoulders, “I’m going to trail them and keep their flank safe. I figure I’ll be the first to know when and where the worst will come.” Axion went to leave, but Anilithyìstad stopped him.
“Take these,” he said as he handed Axion two red rock arrowheads, “Shoot them when the wall is broken and when the city is in full retreat.”
“Yes, uncle. I promise I will not let anything happen to Mortikahn.”
Exactly what he wanted to hear. All in all, there was no one he trusted more than Axion, a shining example of what the next generation of their family was capable of. Part of him wished Anilithion was here for the briefest of moments, just so he could see his cousin Axion in action, the makings of a true king.
“Thank you, Axion. Now go!”
Axion attached the arrowheads to two of his arrows as he walked over to Huntross, his faithful steed. He waited until the last member of Mortikahn’s cavalry left the Gatehouse to begin his lurking of the city and shadowing of Mortikahn. Before long Anilithyìstad also left the frontline, joining Galastad back at the courtyard to set up the command center, per the prince’s orders.
Jericho had the enemy front completely boxed out with his precision archer strikes. The northern wall was successfully keeping the horde of Dragon Kingdom soldiers at bay. From the awaiting ranks back in the army of shadow’s rear, came Behemoths pushing large, armored boarding ramps on wheels. As they approached the walls, the dark soldiers climbed onto them. The ramps were rammed mercilessly into the stone walls.
Small oozing soldiers came jumping out and attacked the archers along with Jericho. Jericho shot one back into the boarding ramp, knocking over all the soldiers behind him. He then shot one attacking a comrade in front of him, but before he could fire off another arrow, he had to elbow an enemy charging at his back. When the enemy fell to the ground Jericho finished him with the tip of his bow. By successfully keeping himself from drawing his sword, he could keep his bow out, and resume picking off enemy intruders from any distance. Jericho put one foot on the dead body, marking the first breach of the wall, and fired another arrow into the head of a dark soldier.
Another intruder rushed at him. He paused from shooting the arrows. He looped the end of his bow around and the attacker was caught by its edge, thrown to the ground. It jerked its scimitar at him. Jericho grabbed the scimitar by the rusty blade and flipped it around. He thrust the blade into the foe’s chest. Before he could look up another one was right on top of him. He used the opponent’s moment and flipped him over his shoulders. Jericho pinned him down with his foot on his throat, loaded an arrow in his bow, and fired in straight into the face of the pinned darksider. Jericho continued to put down enemy after enemy with arrows when an idea hit him.
He took a break from the forces on the wall and shot two arrows at the same time. He aimed for the Behemoth’s footing beside the boarding ramps. Once agitated, the Behemoth began to stir, and then soon enough its temper flared, crumbling the boarding ramp, and rampaging over the dark kingdom’s ranks.
Jericho barked orders to his archers to aim for the Behemoths’ feet. With concentration on the ramps, Jericho was able to predict the enemy’s move to ladders. Soon they began popping up all over the place. As he went to go kick one back down, he saw several thick cables being shot into the air, over his head, for the Gatehouse.
Jericho ordered down the line of the first defense to switch from bows to main arms and guard the remaining archers. Jericho continued tending to the remaining ladders and boarding ramps.
Paxikahn got back to the Gatehouse and tried to climb the north wall to his nephew. Paxikahn and Jericho were a lot alike in physicality. Whereas Anilithyìstad, Axion, and the boys were very lean and broad, Paxikahn and Jericho were more nimble and swift. More cables flew up from the crowd of enemies and latched onto the balcony walls. Paxikahn dismounted and prepared himself. Dark soldiers who had held on and climbed on the way up jumped down onto the ledge. Down the line of the Gatehouse, Paxikahn saw them emerge until one was right before him. It swung its wild ax at Paxikahn, but he jumped out of the way and quickly dispersed the foe via decapitation.
He snapped the coil off, jumped onto the ledge, pulled his bow out, and fired arrows down the line bursting the latches on the rest of the cables. Paxikahn did this until arrows began to fly by his head. He jumped back down and continued to the next opponent. Paxikahn cleared the deck, momentarily, pushed back the cable-shots, and ordered for his horse back.
It was time to move. Always keep moving. That’s how you survive. He looked down the Gatehouse to the northern wall and saw endless attempts at ladders being thrown up on the walls. They could not keep this dance up much longer. Paxikahn rode out of his post atop the Gatehouse and returned to the front wall. He approached his nephew, Jericho, still shooting off random spouts of arrows along with his comrades.
“The body count is rising. We can’t hold them off with arrows much longer. Soon they won’t need ramps or ladders, they’ll be able to climb up on all the dead bodies,” informed Jericho as he continued firing round after round.
“Look!” yelled out an archer as he pointed towards the northwestern gates. Battering rams were revealed behind the lines and slammed into the large slab stone walls. At first the battering rams had little effect on the main gates, but with concentration put on the ladders and the battlefront before the walls, it was just a matter of time before the front gates cracked. Paxikahn called for all arms to head to downtown, the main gate area. Jericho went with him, abandoning the northern wall, and Gatehouse. The bangs from the battering rams hitting the gates put a tempo in the air to score the fight. Like a timer, it counted the moments left before the city was overrun.
Paxikahn and Jericho rallied the troops before the trembling gate. In the downtown markets they had some space to breathe before the streets got narrow and the buildings tight, this is where they would make their stand. Another loud crash and a splinter ran down the back of the stone slab gate. Paxikahn took a good look around. There were not many of them left. Not nearly enough to stop the dark forces from entering the city. Another loud crash echoing through the walls and the taunts from the outside. They were making progress through the gates.
“This is it.”